


There is Love with No Hiding

by VeteranKlaus



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Dave and Klaus are together, Emotional Growth, Klaus and Dave are a power couple in the face of the end of the world, Klaus finding new powers, M/M, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Protective brothers, Sober Klaus, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-11-16 04:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18087791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeteranKlaus/pseuds/VeteranKlaus
Summary: "If you're one of his little drug buddies," Diego growls, and Klaus feels the way he tenses behind him, ready to defend himself and to defend Klaus, "then you can get the fuck out of here." Diego steps forwards and Klaus scrambles between the two of them, a hand on either man's chest, and he shakes his head."No, no, Diego, it's not like that," he says. "He's my... he's my boyfriend." He looks back at him and, with a small smile on his face, Dave nods, and Klaus turns back to Diego. "Yeah, he's my boyfriend." He laughs because that feels so good to say.Or;Dave doesn't die and they return to the future after twenty-seven months in Vietnam. It complicates things, but maybe for the better.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Vietnam, Klaus convinces Dave to let them go back - or, forwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick intro! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
>  
> 
> Edited 13/3/19.

Things have been picking up a lot right now. The past four months or so, they’d been moved around the country multiple times, from base to base, trench to trench, and Klaus worries for them all. With how long he’s been here, although he isn’t sure because they can’t reach the outside world in the trenches and time slips through their fingers, he’s surprised he hasn’t died. He’s seen many people die by his side, had come close to it more than once, but somehow, he’s still alive, and so is Dave.

They’ve seen many people come and go; seen their friends’ corpses get carried away on stretches, seen fresh-faced recruits get sent up from training, unaware to the horror of it all. He’s felt the ground shake beneath him as Dave pushes a hand over an oozing bullet wound in his shoulder, in his thigh, his arm, and Klaus returns the gesture twice, screaming for medics that couldn’t hear him while he covers painful wounds with his bony hands.

Those hadn’t been as intense as these attacks have been. They’ve had artillery bombardments lasting hours, ambushes, increases in losses, in casualties, a rush in the training process back home, had young, clueless, clumsy recruits sent up to them, hardly knowing how to hold a gun. It was going badly, he knew, and he was worried for them.

This place had quickly become his reality. The Umbrella Academy was a dream, something that happened a lifetime ago, and Klaus wasn’t sure he really minded that. He’d found more trust and love in this place, more security in this warzone than in his dysfunctional family. The men here trusted him more than his family at home, considered him a real brother, and Klaus learned more than he thought he ever had. He learned how to fire a gun and how to put on a gas mask on in under ten seconds, how to fireman-carry a man in full soldier kit out of mud and overgrowth. He learned teamwork and trust and responsibility, learned that he could make the ghosts go away, learned that he was more than just a junkie. War taught him to trust himself, to be more confident in himself when he was sober, to not hide behind jokes and addiction. His nightmares of the mausoleum were taken over by nightmares of the faces of nineteen year olds, blind and crying, bleeding out in the cold mud. Of Dave dying beneath his fingertips, of finding Dave’s body, long dead under the rubble of an explosion, of watching Dave get gunned down in their advancements by his side.

Klaus was close with Dave. They know everything about one another – Klaus knew he was an only child, that his mother died in an accident when he was seventeen, that his dad died before he was born, and that he had never been sure what he was going to do other than sign up for the army. Klaus told Dave everything. Whether he believed him or not was a different case, but he knew that Klaus was from the future, knew that Klaus could see the dead, that Klaus could (try to) leave any time and go into the future where it was safe, but he stayed for him. He knew that Klaus had overdosed more times than he could count, that his father was an asshole.

Sometimes they wouldn’t have enough beds when the recruits got sent up, and so Klaus would give his little cot to two recruits and then have an excuse to sleep with his head on Dave’s shoulder and no one would blink twice. When they went back to the safety of little towns and frequented the bars, danced to old music and drank shots of whiskey, Klaus and Dave would wander off; around the back of the bar, down a hallway they weren’t allowed to be in, in some supply closet even. They shared their first kiss in a hallway away from anyone else, beer in his stomach and music thrumming through him.

Once, Klaus drank enough to give him some liquid courage and they fell into a supply closet, a mess of whiskey lips and cigarette smoke hair, his lanky limbs tugging on Dave’s tanned, muscular ones. Dave had been tense, full of 1960’s homophobia and on high alert, but the last man Klaus had been with said his mouth could make people forget everything, and it seemed that Dave agreed with that.  

Klaus wasn’t a lover. Klaus was a drug addict, flamboyant, trouble-magnet of a junkie who the dead loved to harass. He loved drugs more than he loved life, and he only dated people to get himself out of the streets for a while. He got sex, not love. But then again, he also wasn’t a soldier, wasn’t used to being so sober, had never been able to send the ghosts away before.

With Dave, Klaus was in love. He followed him to the front line once, twice, many times, had stayed even after he had gotten shot, after hiding in ruined buildings while enemies prowled nearby, after he ducked from explosions, got used to eating cold, C4 rations. He imagined life out of war with Dave in some little cottage with a cat and a turtle, maybe.

For a long moment, Klaus fears that their future is about to be ruined. The front line was a mess of machine gun fire that mowed anyone down when they poked their head up, a mess of bombs that ruined their barbed wire defences and their machine guns, of never ending monsoon rain that flooded their poorly-made trenches, clogged their boots and soaked them to the bone. His chest aches when he breathes in, smoke burning his throat, and he has a burn on his shoulder, a bit on his cheek, and the only thing cooling it is the rain. He doesn’t know if he’s freezing or burning, can taste smoke and blood, and can’t stop shaking. He knows that some of the blood on his hands is his, but most of it is from Luca, standing by his empty bed in the motel, the back of his head blown off. He’s confused, blood flooding from his head like a waterfall, unaware that he’s dead, and Christ, he was only twenty years old. He had been with them for five months, had marched by their side, sang old songs like _Keep The Home Fires Burnin’_ with them.

It’s not uncommon for people to have breakdowns. Some men hallucinate, have such bad night terrors and completely break down that they have to be discharged. Klaus thinks that he’s come close to that point many times in the past however-long.

War is Hell. He thinks of all the people he’s seen die, how their families will be waiting for them to come home, to write their next letter, only to receive one announcing their sons death. How many families have been torn apart, how many people left scarred, physically and mentally.

Klaus’ fingers run through his hair, curl into his strands and tug. New recruits will get sent up to them tomorrow and some of them will die the first day they reach the trenches. Klaus’ hears them all, hears the screaming of the soldiers dying, can imagine how Alex screamed, stranded in one of the traps set for them, dying slowly of infection, blood loss, and dehydration. He can hear the gunshot whiz by his ear, burn his hair, and land in William’s chest. His legs collapse under him as the ground jumps and shakes with explosions, and Klaus flinches violently into the bed beneath him.

Most of the still-living soldiers are in the bar, forcing smiles and laughs and drinking until they forget the dead of yesterday. Klaus longs to be there, too, to drown his sorrows in whiskey and vodka, or in a handful of pills or a syringe that’ll leave him on the verge of death for days.

“Klaus!” A soldier screams, falling beside him, and he has to keep running. He feels their hands scrabble at his ankles, beg him to help, and then a hand settles on his shoulder and Dave’s green, green eyes are staring at him.

“Klaus, you with me?” He asks, and there’s dirt on his skin, in his hair, and they’ve all kicked their muddy, wet boots aside. The kind people that own the place are offering to clean their clothes for them.

Klaus makes some kind of noise in the back of his throat, and Dave sits on the bed next to, pulls him into his side roughly and the tight, unwavering grip helps ground him, quieten the whistle from the never ending bombardment of bombs and rapid machine gun fire that rings in his ears. Neither of them say anything, because they both know what’s going on, and Klaus grips onto his forearm and cries. Luca disappears.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this, Dave,” Klaus says, shaking his head violently. “I can’t keep seeing them die. Luca didn’t even know he was dead; his fucking head was blown apart,” he gasps, ash-air escaping his lungs.

Dave’s hands are large and steady, hold him close and protect him from the gunfire, and Klaus traces his shaking fingers over a red scar that makes his muscles twitch. The amount of times Klaus thought he would lose him terrified him, made him feel physically sick, made tears jump to his eyes.

“Don’t leave me,” Klaus begs, twists his fingers in Dave’s messy shirt. “You can’t die out there, Dave,” his voice breaks and he sucks in air, “you can’t do that to me.”

Dave watches the wall opposite them with a solemn look.

“I’d never,” he promises.

 

It’s night time, and they had gone downstairs half an hour ago. In that short span of time Klaus managed multiple shots until he stumbled getting back up the stairs, hauling Dave behind him. He pulls them into their empty room and closes the door with the heel of his foot, makes Dave help shove a chair under the handle, and then he pulls Dave in so he can catch his lips, and Dave laughs at his eagerness. Klaus’ knees hit the back of a bed and they both tumble down, Dave squashing Klaus, and they laugh like it’s the dumbest thing ever.

Klaus takes his face in his hands and Dave ducks down to kiss him. Dave takes his shirt off and helps Klaus with his, but his forehead rests on Klaus’ and he can’t stop grinning.

Klaus shoves the man off of him and he rolls off to the side of the bed, letting him finally get up to his feet. “You know, Dave, we don’t have to be here,” he says, and he raises his eyebrows.

“I still have that briefcase, you know.”

“Oh? Your time travelling one?” He grins, and Klaus pulls it from under his bed.

“That one, yes,” Klaus confirms with a boyish grin.

“We could leave. Right now. We could go whenever you want; we could go to the dinosaur era, a thousand years into the future, I could take you to my home. We could be safe. I wouldn’t have to lose you,” he says. Dave stands up and saunters over to him, reaching out to take his hand.

“Klaus,” Dave sighs, but he’s smiling and he pulls Klaus’ hand up to rest his cheek against it.

“I’m not joking around here, Dave!” Klaus defends. “We could do it. We could do it right now. I’m not leaving this place without you, you know. One way or another,” he says, and Dave tilts his head to the side.

“I know that, Lucky, I know,” he says, and Klaus taps his free hand on the briefcase.

“Hey, if you don’t believe it, there’s no harm in trying, right?” Klaus counters, eyebrows raised, and Dave laughs and shrugs.

“Maybe not,” he agrees and Klaus nods encouragingly.

“Just think about it, Dave,” he says, “no one else will die. We can live in a good world. We can go back to America and we can get a job and an apartment and a cat and a fucking parrot, Dave! And we can get fucking married, Dave! Married! And adopt! Dave, life is good,” he pleads, thumps his hand on the briefcase.

Dave looks… sad, at that. Of course, though, he’s grown up in a time where none of that is talked about, is a possibility for thought, even, and Klaus knows what kind of man Dave is, knows it’s crossed his mind multiple times to get married and have children.

“You’re cruel, Klaus,” he laughs bitterly, and Klaus shakes his head.

“Let me show you,” he says, and watches Dave’s eyes flutter shut.

“Christ Klaus,” he mutters, forcing a smile, and he opens his eyes once more. “You’re such a dreamer, Klaus. Show me, then. Because I would love it, Klaus, really, I would.”

Klaus bursts out in a grin, rounds the bed to Dave’s side, and tells him to get whatever he wants and to hold on. He isn’t sure if it’ll work. He’s, of course, tried to open it many times since arriving in this Hell hole, and no time did it work. Maybe it’ll only transport him, anyway. He isn’t sure. Dave’s grip is tight on him and their stuff he’s collected; their dog tags, a photo of their division, their jackets. They even shove their feet into their boots; it’s not nice to walk around a city with no shoes on. They put their shirts on, and Klaus opens the briefcase.

They’re devoured, blinded, in a flash of brilliant blue, and in two seconds they’re gone with no trace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this so far! Feel free to leave a kudos or a comment, I love and appreciate it all!


	2. Every Breath I Spend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus introduces Dave to Diego, and remembers the current pressure over all of their heads'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me start by saying; wow.  
> The support I received from the first part is mind blowing, and I just want to say thank you all for it! It means a lot and I'm really happy to hear you all liked it so much! I hope you enjoy this part as well!
> 
> Future parts may get longer.

They land on the same bus, in the same seats, Klaus sat in two years ago – an hour ago, according to the clock on the bus. It’s stopped at a bus stop outside a gas station for the minute, the driver taking a break, and no one else is on to the notice the appearance of two men. It takes Klaus a minute to realise that it’s worked, and he feels like he’s been hit with a serious case of travel sickness. Beside him, Dave falls slightly into his side with a grunt.

He hurries to lock the briefcase closed and then he turns to Dave, wide eyes roaming the bus and the places outside the window.  Klaus lets out a laugh, feels them bubbling in his chest. The only sound around them is the traffic and noise of city life, no more guns or screaming bombs, and Klaus can’t believe it.

“Holy shit, Klaus,” Dave mutters, and Klaus shakes his head and laughs. He stands up, takes Dave’s wrist and pulls him off the bus. They’re in the centre of the city and people are leaving work, some going out for dinner, some high schoolers lingering around shops. Dave’s in shock, looking around them all with one hand in Klaus’ grasp and the other gripping Klaus’ dog tags around his neck.

“I told you,” Klaus said with a grin. He glances down at the briefcase in his hands, and when they walk past an alleyway he dumps it in one of the dumpsters.

Dave follows him like a lost puppy, trying to process the fact it actually worked, but he’s smiling. “When are we?” He asks, and Klaus grins.

“About two hours after I first appeared in the tent, twenty-nineteen.”

Dave lets out a long breath, shaking his head, and then he lets out a laugh.

“You weren’t lying about that,” he said, and Klaus nodded with a ‘duh’ expression.

“I don’t have any money with me,” Klaus says, urging him through the streets once more, “I can take you to my, ah, old house. We can have a bath – you’re bloody filthy, Dave – and I’ll find some money and we can go out again?” He suggested, and Dave relaxed, a warm smile on his face.

“Yeah,” he says with a nod, “yeah, let’s do that.”

 

The academy is a while from where they are and so Klaus fills the time by talking about whatever he can; he tells him about phones and TVs, about how marriage is legal in all states as of two months ago, how they could go up to Canada, away from everyone here, and get a little farm and adopt. He tells Dave about The Umbrella Academy, his brothers and sisters.

“I’m Number Four,” he says, “because dad couldn’t be bothered giving us names. I’m the cool one. I see the dead and it’s not as cool as you might think it is,” he admits with a shrug. “Hence why I started the drugs. There’ll be some in my room I need to throw out,” he realises out loud, and the statement makes him tense. He doesn’t want to throw them out. He’s been sober for so long now that one little pie probably wouldn’t do anything bad to him, surely. Dave’s hand rests on his shoulder and he smiles.

“We’ll do that first, then,” he says, and Klaus nods. He doesn’t need them.

 

It’s quiet when they enter the academy, and Klaus isn’t surprised. Five’s probably off saving the world, Diego’s probably – shit, Diego probably knows about that nice detective lady by now – and Luther, well, Luther’s probably home, which isn’t ideal but hey, Klaus has always been good at pissing Luther off enough to make him leave him alone.

Dave seems shocked about the grand academy and Klaus doesn’t blame him; it’s extravagant, large and fancy, well kept from Pogo and mother’s up-keeping of it, and Klaus doesn’t think he looks like the kind of man to have grown up in a building like this.

He goes to the bathroom first but Dave reminds him about the drugs, and he helps him pull them all out of the little holes he cut into his stuffed animals as a teenager and he doesn’t _judge_ him, even though he’s obviously reluctant and Klaus feels like shit because he knows there’s _more_. He flushes the ones he and Dave find, which is the majority, down the toilet and kisses Klaus’ cheek, and Klaus grabs two robes and towels and a pair of old jeans and a shirt from Diego’s room, because he think they have the most similar body type.

It’s a nice comfort to bring back his tight leather jeans, a sheer top and a long, fluffy jacket for himself to wear.

Dave runs a bath and Klaus locks the door, snickers as Dave eyes his clothes.

“They’re for me, silly,” he says, “this is the kind of stuff I wear.” Dave raises his eyebrows, and Klaus knows that he would have been beaten within an inch of his life if he wore this in the 60s.

They slide into the tub, an awkward mess of long limbs trying to fit around one another in the small porcelain tub, and water sloshes out over the rim. Klaus snickers at their attempts to fit themselves comfortably into the tub until, eventually, they manage to do so. Klaus pours in some bubble mix and nudges Dave until he turns around, and with a pink sponge he rubs grime and sweat and dirt from his back and his shoulders, watches tension drip out beneath his fingertips.

“How you fairing?” Klaus asks, resting his chin on Dave’s shoulder, and the soldier slumps back against his chest.

“I feel like this is a dream,” he admits with a small laugh. Klaus smiles, reaches around to wash his chest with a lavender-smelling sponge.

“I can promise you it isn’t,” Klaus says softly,

“Tell me more about your family,” he requests, and Klaus hums. He’s told him an overview of his siblings, glossing over their dysfunctional history.

“Luther and I, we never really got on,” Klaus shrugs, “he’s Number One, after all, and wants to be the leader of it. He was a daddy’s boy, I was a junkie, it’s a match made in Hell. I mean, he’s my brother and all, but… eek. Then there’s Number Two, aka Diego and he…” Klaus laughs, shakes his head, and continues on to talk about each of them. He tells them who he’s closest with, what they’re like, their jobs, their relationship. Dave seems confused when he explains Five and Ben, and speaking of Ben, he hasn’t seen him in a while. He wasn’t there in Vietnam – Klaus assumes the time machine was picky and only transported those touching it, or something – and he’s not here now. Klaus misses him.

“And they’ll be okay with us?” Dave asks, hesitant. They move around so Dave can massage soap into his back, shampoo into his hair.

“Yeah,” he replies with a nod, because they probably will. He’s not explicitly said that he’s into men, per say, but he doesn’t think he’s shown anywhere near Diego’s interest in women either. If they don’t, well, Klaus will just leave.

“They’ll be fine, Dave. I promise,” Klaus repeats, turns around to look at him. With soapy hands Klaus holds Dave’s face and then catches his lips, gentle and soft and loving and everything Klaus isn’t but Dave has brought out in him.

They clamber out of the bath tub and drain the water, dry themselves off and get changed and return to his bedroom. Diego’s clothes fit surprisingly well, the shirt slightly tight around his arms, but they’ll do until he can get mother to clean their old clothes and until they can buy some more. Klaus should probably go steal something he can pawn or have Pogo give him some of his allowance again (they’ve resorted to giving it to him in smaller doses to try and dissuade him from using it to buy drugs). Usually, Klaus can find a lot of his clothes cheap online or in some thrift shop or sale, but he’s not opposed to going out for a shopping trip with Dave.

Klaus is discussing that idea with him, offering to take him into town and to some shops.

“I’m not sure if I should trust your fashion sense or not Klaus,” Dave comments, and Klaus snickers. He digs under his bed until he feels the familiar soft feathers of his boa and he wraps it around Dave’s shoulders. Klaus can’t explain why, but there’s glitter dusting the feathers and it showers down across his small bed and their laps and Klaus laughs at the pink glitter on his nose.

“My fashion sense is amazing Dave, and don’t you dare try to say otherwise.” Klaus sticks his tongue out and Dave copies the expression childishly until Klaus pulls him down onto the bed, making jokes about Dave’s attitude.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, how could I?” Dave snorts, and Klaus grins, slides himself over so he straddles Dave’s thighs, brings himself down to kiss his cheek. His fingers interlocked with Dave’s and Klaus slides down, leaving one leg thrown over his hips, and he rests his head on his shoulder.

Klaus is content with this. He knows that he’s going to have to face whatever Five is rambling about concerning the end of the world, their petty sibling rivalries, whatever, but for this moment in time he’s content. The only bombs he hears are ones he knows aren’t real and Dave’s body is real and firm beside his, and they’re safe.

One of Dave’s hands absentmindedly run through Klaus’ still slightly damp hair, and Klaus thinks his eyes are closed so he closes his as well. He’s oddly tired from the second-long travel between 1970 and 2015, and he’s happy to just pass out here.

Before he can even think about that, though, there’s a knock at the door. Because the idea of ‘give Klaus privacy’ doesn’t exist, either, the door swings open hardly five seconds after. Dave tenses and goes to sit up quickly but Klaus persuades him to relax more.

Diego’s face greets him, immediately eying Dave suspiciously.

“Where have you been, Klaus?” He asks, and Klaus lets out a nonchalant yawn, rolling his shoulders back and leaving one arm on Dave’s shoulders.

“Out and about, y’know,” he shrugs, a lazy smile on his lips as he regards a tense Diego. “Did I miss much?”

Diego purses his lips, glances aside and shifts on the spot. “I’ve been looking for you. The house got shot up yesterday and you’ve not answered any of my calls. Even if you were off high, whatever, you could have answered.” He’s getting more pent up, his worry turning to something he’s more familiar with – anger. He turns to Dave, quietly sitting beside him.

“And you – who are you?” He questions, eyes narrowed. “If you’re one of his little drug buddies,” Diego growls, and beneath his touch Klaus feels Dave tense, ready to defend himself and to defend Klaus, “then you can get the fuck out of here.”

Diego takes a threatening step forwards as Dave sits up, and Klaus scrambles to his feet and places one hand on Dave’s chest, the other on Diego’s, and he shakes his head.

“No, no, Diego, it’s not like that – at all,” he says and then, hesitantly, “he’s my… he’s my boyfriend.” He glances back at Dave who trusts Klaus to control the situation and, with a small smile on his face, Dave nods. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend.” He laughs a little because that’s so good to say.

Diego’s eyes narrow but he steps back, lets Klaus’ hand fall down. “Your boyfriend?” He repeats, and Klaus lifts his head higher and nods.

“My boyfriend,” he repeats, “sorry, you lost your chance.” Behind him, Dave stands up and Diego looks him up and down.

“Done drugs?” He asks, and Dave shakes his head.

“The only time I’ve touched any,” he says, “was when we just flushed all of his.”

Diego turns to Klaus who simply nods his confirmation and waves a hand invitingly around the room.

“You’re sober?” He asks, quieter, and Klaus flashes him a grin.

“As clean as a whistle, brother dear,” he nods. Diego is quiet for a moment longer before he reaches out and suddenly pulls Klaus into a crushing hug. Klaus doesn’t blame him.

Diego was, still is, his emergency contact for every hospital and rehab centre he’s ever been to. When the rest of the family got fed up of seeing Klaus with IV drips in him, hearing his voice hoarse from having his stomach pumped, Diego stayed. Diego had seen him in possibly his worst, or second-worst, overdose he had experienced, and he had probably tried the hardest to get him in rehab multiple times.

Klaus could clearly remember the image of his fuzzy, disappointed and sad face each time he’d woken up in a hospital, asking if he was okay, why he was so stupid, before he’d black out once more. He could remember, once, when he’d been given what he thought was something he was used to but had been spiked and had hardly had a grip on reality and yet managed to phone Diego who had left wherever he was living at the time to come get Klaus from the alley beside some huge house party, seizing on the ground.

Diego tried with Klaus, he always would, and Klaus really had appreciated it, then and now, even if he had spat it back in his face each time he’d gotten high since.

Klaus returns the hug after a few moments, murmuring a couple ‘there, there’s’ and Diego pats his back roughly a few times and then parts from the hug. He composes himself, pulls himself back together behind his manly-man façade (he’s always been a mother’s son and a softy, though, and Klaus knows him better when he’s not throwing knives around the place) and turns to Dave.

“So,” he says, “how long?”

Dave relaxes and they laugh at that. Klaus happily obliges to tell him whatever he wants to know about Dave, appreciates his brothers interest in his life.

“The disco was, like, three months in?” He questions Dave, because Dave has always been better with dates than he has.

“Disco was three months after we met, yeah,” he confirms, “in May, now’s September,” he hums thoughtfully, and Diego raises an eyebrow.

“Four months? Damn, okay, been a little while then,” he comments. Klaus shares a look with Dave and he grins.

“Okay, what is it that I’m not getting?” He asks. Klaus slumps back into Dave’s side with a laugh.

“That’s quite a long story, my dear,” he comments, and he glances at Dave. “Do you remember the date on the newspapers?” He asks, and Dave glances aside in thought.

“May, I think. It was May,” he nods and Klaus grins, turns back to Diego.

“It’s, technically, been twenty – shit, two years!” He exclaims, looking at Dave with shock. Twenty-four months exactly, counting from the kiss in the disco. Dave’s hand squeezes his and Klaus smiles brightly, resists the urge to melt right into his side.

“Two years?” Diego repeats, shock evident on his face. “You’d think we’d have heard about it by now.”

Klaus points a finger at him and laughs. “That, Diego, mein bruder, is where the story gets long.” He waves his hand in a vague gesture. “Hazel and Cha-Cha, those masked psychos that shot the place up – remember them? Yeah, well, they grabbed me, I made my escape, stole some briefcase that I thought would have money or a neat gun in it to pawn, and it, ah, sent me back in time. Nineteen-sixty-eight, Vietnam, to be precise. Dave was there. I was there for… for over two years,” he says that dreamily, flashes of life in Vietnam echoing in his skull.

Diego rubs his eyes, clasps his hands together in front of his face.

“You stole a time travelling machine and stayed there for two years?” He repeats dubiously, and Klaus laughs shakily.

“Yeah, yeah, I did. That’s crazy,” he laughs, covers his mouth with his ‘GOODBYE’ hand because he thinks he might be sick, and Dave sets a hand on his thigh.

“Christ, Klaus,” Diego mutters, shaking his head in shock.

“Yeah, well, I made it back!” Klaus quickly says, “and with a little extra! Say hello to Dave.” He wraps his arm around Dave for emphasise, presses his cheek against his shoulder and hugs him. He reaches up with one hand and runs the pad of his thumb over Dave’s name engraved into his dog tags. They’re together and they’re safe.

“So you’re a vet now?” Diego says, offering to change the topic slightly, and Klaus’ lips twitch.

“I guess so,” he agrees with a nod and a small laugh. He hears Diego stand up and walk over.

“I like you,” he says, looking at Dave. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Dave watches Diego for a moment before offering him the hand that isn’t wrapped around Klaus’ waist.

“I think we understand each other,” he comments, and Klaus doesn’t understand what he means by that but Diego seems to as his lips twitch and he nods. He takes his hand and shakes it firmly.

“I think we do,” he confirms, then walks back over to the door.

“Five will probably hound you about what happened with them,” he says over his shoulder, “so I’d brace for whatever end of the world stuff he says to you.”

Klaus gives his brother a lazy grin and a half-hearted salute. “You were always my favourite,” he calls. He hears Diego scoff but mutter something affectionate under his breath before the door close, and Klaus laughs softly to himself.

“Told you they’d be fine,” he says to Dave, and the soldier gives a small, breathy chuckle and nods.

“Do I get to ask about what he meant by the end of the world?” He asks hesitantly, and Klaus offers a sheepish smile.

“Ah,” he says, “that. Well, the world is ending in, like, a week. Blame Five.”

Dave lets out a small ‘oh’ as if that clears everything up, and Klaus laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this part, and hopefully you'll stay for the next one, too! 
> 
> Feel free to leave a kudos or a comment; I appreciate it all and I love hearing your feedback!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr @veteranklaus if you would like to message me or whatever <3


	3. You Are Collecting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, an update!? That's right baby! I'm updating this again! A shorter chapter, but I hope you enjoy it and look forwards to the future chapters!

"No, no, you can't just drop it entirely," Dave says. He's leaning back against the kitchen counter and Klaus is sitting on top of it next to him, ignoring his complaints that the counter is for cooking and Klaus is barefoot and extremely contaminating it. In front of them, the oven light is on and Klaus isn't a cook, but how hard can it be to cook some chicken nuggets? Surely not _that_ hard.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Dave," Klaus hums, keeps his gaze on the slowly cooking chicken nuggets.

"Klaus," Dave says, and Klaus slides off the counter to stand in front of the oven with his hands on his hips. 

"Ketchup... we could have ketchup with them... fries? Do we need those? Oh, McDonald's fries are the best, fuck me, I can't make any those good."

"Klaus!" 

He jumps, whipping around to look at Dave and offering a sheepish smile.

"Yes?" He asks, hands on his hips. Dave gives him  _the look,_ and Klaus sighs, wanders right up to him and places his hands on Dave's shoulders.

"Honey, dear, baby, mon amour, meine liebe," he drawls. "I'll tell you all about it, I promise. We'll make these and go back to my room and have a lovely little chat and I won't get distracted at all," he says, and Dave reaches up to take his hands. He pulls Klaus close and runs his hands down Klaus' side and he can't help the shiver that runs down his spine. Then he leans close and he whispers, "your chicken nuggets are going to burn."

Klaus turns to look at the oven and, sure enough, they were a minute away from burning. He hurried to turn the oven off and debated between a bowl and a plate, and ends up going for a bowl because it's easier to carry. He pours the chicken nuggets into it and leaves the tray they were on in the sink, and on the way back to his room he grabs a bottle of whiskey from the bar

They return to Klaus' bedroom and he closes the door behind them. He jumps slightly upon seeing Ben standing against the wall with his book in his hands, looking up when they enter. He smiles to see Klaus and then looks at Dave with him and raises his eyebrows.

"Where have you been?" He asks, and Klaus looks at Dave who's settling back on his bed with the bowl of chicken nuggets. He settles next to him and gestures for Ben to wait.

"You know how I told you I can, y'know, commune with the dead and all that?" Klaus brings up, and Dave raises an eyebrow. Klaus isn't sure if he actually believes him or not, though he assumes the successful time travel was helping to back him up and prove he wasn't entirely crazy.

"Yes..." He says, hesitant, and Klaus smiles.

"And you know how I told you about dearest number six? Died years ago? Yeah, that one. He's here, so I swear I'm not talking to a wall," he says, and Dave glances around the room as if expecting to see him. Klaus points at Ben.

"I, uh, I can't like, physically manifest him, so you can't see him, but he's here. Ben, meet Dave."

Ben looks slightly entertained with Klaus trying to justify himself and maintain his appearance of sanity, and then he looks at Dave. 

"New boyfriend?" He asks. "You could have told me you were going there after, you know, getting kidnapped," he comments, and Klaus rolls his eyes at his brother.

"Yes to the second half of the first part. You really missed a lot with the briefcase escape, Ben. Long story short; time travel, Vietnam, two years."

He turns to Dave, then, reaching for a chicken nugget. Dave gives him a questioning look and Klaus just shrugs.

"Ben says hi," he simply responds, and puts the chicken nugget in his mouth. He decides he might as well be Gordon Ramsey, because they're fucking good, and he helps himself to more.

"So, am I in on the whole 'end of the world' thing yet?" Dave asks a few minutes later, and Klaus hums.

"I honestly don't know much more than I've already told you," he admits, looking up at Dave, "Five came back and he doesn't know why it happens. Something about an eye, maybe. I think he's still on about that - prosthetic, by the way - and there's only a few days... maybe we should go get that briefcase again," he mutters, and Dave runs his fingers through Klaus' hair. 

"Can we help?" He asks, surprising both himself and Ben, and he raises his eyebrows.

"I have no idea. Me, personally? Probably not. They're all doing superpower stuff and all I really bring to the table is I can ask Ben what our approaching death will feel like," he snorts, shares a smile with Ben.

Dave gives him another signature look. "And you served two years in Vietnam," he states, "you can do more than that, Klaus. You never sat on the side in Vietnam."

And damn, if that didn't make Klaus' gut twist. Of course he never would have. Maybe the first couple of days in action, when he was still processing the fact that he was actually in a war, but after then? Never. The men in their division, the 173rd Airborne Brigade, had trusted Klaus with his life. Thought he was a bit goofy, maybe, but they trusted him with a gun in his hands and to watch their backs, and Klaus wouldn't dream of letting them down.

Klaus lets out a groan, eyes fluttering closed. "Fuck," he moans, and he knows Dave just won - again. He always had in the twenty-seven months of knowing him. 

Beside him, Dave smiles and he puts a hand on Klaus' thigh. "Good," he responds, and Klaus just puts up a weak glare before reaching for more food. 

"I don't even know how to train!" Klaus comments and Dave shoots him a slight glare as he speaks with his mouth full. "Dear old daddy never did anything successful with me. I can, what, wander up to a ghost and have a chat? I - uh, I don't know, Dave." He gets quieter as he speaks, covering his mouth with his hand and then shaking his head. Dave runs his thumb over Klaus' knuckles.

"We'll figure it out," he says, and sounds so sure that Klaus just had to believe him, too. He flops down dramatically, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

"Dad always thought you could do more." Ben, this time, and Klaus peers at his deceased brother through his fingers. He presses his lips together thoughtfully, and Dave nudges him. 

"Ben said dad thought I could do more," he passes on, and Klaus really doesn't want to think of their dad. Of any of the training he put him through, of any of the things he said to him; he didn't want to think about any of it. The old man had kicked the bucket and refused to cooperate with him to conjure him, so Klaus would happily continue to not care about his dad.

"Maybe you can," Dave agrees, bobbing his head. Klaus goes back to closing his eyes and blindly reaching for the bowl of chicken nuggets. 

"Later," he hushes, "now, chicken nuggets."

He knows Dave gave him a pointed look, but he lets him drop it in favour of eating the chicken nuggets. At some point Klaus forces himself to get up so he could turn on some music before eagerly returning to his spot curled into Dave's side.

"How're you handling this?" He asks. His fingertips dance along Dave's arm, along his chest before settling there. Sure, he thinks he took time travelling well himself when he arrived in Vietnam, but he had still been in shock and half-delirious from Cha-Cha and Hazel, however those kinds of things were normal to Klaus. But for Dave? None of that was normal for him. He had seemed to be taking it surprisingly well, but he could be having some huge breakdown internally for all Klaus knew.

Dave hums, fingers carding through Klaus' messy hair. 

"Well, it's certainly... odd," he admits, eyes flicking down to Klaus. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around it, but it's alright. I have you and that's all I need," he tells him, and Klaus looks away, cheeks hot and dark.

"Aw, shucks," Klaus says. "Stop it, you." He waves a hand dismissively but Dave grins at him and ducks his head down to press a soft kiss to the top of Klaus' head.

Klaus isn't a _lover_. Klaus' family have never said 'I love you' to one another, and the times he's uttered that phrase to another man it's never really been true. He's loved the sex, or the bed, or the food, or the drugs, but he hasn't loved another person and another person has never loved him. His idea of love is risky, dirty sex in the bathrooms at clubs, or in alleys, or motels, crack houses or shitty apartments; the stuff that leaves him with bruises and an insatiable hunger for more. It's spooning someone or being spooned so that you are both on your side so you don't choke on your own vomit, or it's sharing a joint together and making out with smoky moans and going to takeaways at midnight and using all of your stolen money put together to get a meal. 

It's not gentle touches and admiring glances when the other person isn't looking. It isn't playing with their hair, or sneaking kisses in the backs of discos, or snorting over stupid jokes after a couple of drinks. It isn't cheek kisses and hesitant touches, acting like two teenagers unsure of their own bodies and feelings. It's none of that and none of what he and Dave share, but he likes it. Loves it, even if it makes his throat tight when Dave's eyes, oh so soft and oh so gentle. His hands aren't eager and sloppy, tugging off his clothes with a high-driven lust. 

Klaus thinks - no, he _knows_ \- that he loves Dave, but the words get stuck in his throat and stay there. Instead, he turns his head to slot perfectly into the crook of Dave's neck and holds him close. 

He thinks he might fall asleep. Dave's heart beats steadily under one of his ears, chest rising and falling beneath his hands, and he's peaceful for the first time in his life. Then, because nothing ever good lasts for Klaus, there's a knock at the door.

"Klaus? Are you in there?" 

It's Luther, and Klaus groans.

"No. Go away," he replies, muffled. Luther, unsurprisingly, does not. He opens the door instead, peering inside. 

"We're having a - who is this?" He cuts himself off, eying Dave suspiciously.

"He's my boyfriend, Dave. Close the door behind you, please," Klaus dismisses, waving a hand and not bothering to lift his head off of Dave, even if he can feel how he gets a bit more tense and awkward.

"Your _boyfriend_? Klaus, are you - are you _gay_?" He asks, and, well, that wasn't what he expected. He lifts his head at that to gaze tiredly at his wide-eyed brother.

" _Am I gay_?" Klaus repeats, and then he barks out a laugh. "Luther - is it not obvious? _Of course_ I'm gay! I don't think I could get _gayer_ if I tried," he howls, forcing himself to sit up and face his brother. 

Luther's cheeks are hot and red and he shuffles awkwardly on the spot. "You never... never told us," he muttered in defence. "I, well... I support you, Klaus, I hope you know that," he adds quietly, and Klaus laughs before realising how serious he is.

"Uh, thanks, big guy," he says, wiping the amused grin off his face, "I appreciate it. Now, can you please close the door?" He requests, and that seems to jolt Luther back to what he was going to say.

"We're having a family meeting, " he states, "come on."

Klaus lets out a loud groan but with the way Luther's still staring at him he doubts he's going to let him get away with not coming. So, he stands up, gesturing for Dave to follow him. 

"Fine, God," he groans, pulling Dave after him as he follows Luther down the stairs and to the living room. 

Everyone else is already there, hanging out near the bar, and Klaus thinks this really isn't how he thought he was going to introduce Dave to the family, but hey. Nothing's ever been easy in the Umbrella Academy. Then again, it's only Allison - neither Five nor Vanya are around today - and if Allison was okay with him stealing her skirts, then he knows she'll be fine with Dave. Before she can even question it when they walk Klaus waves a hand.

"Allison, my boyfriend Dave. Dave, my famous sister Allison. Now, what's this about?" He asks, slumping onto a couch. Allison has coffee for them all - she apologises for not having one for Dave despite only knowing of his existence for five minutes - and since Klaus only drinks coffee when half of it is whiskey, he hands his to Dave before draping his legs across his lap.

Unsurprisingly, it's about the apocalypse. Klaus isn't really listening after Luther gives the announcement that they all died in the apocalypse, which is great. He'd come back from a war, told his boyfriend they could come somewhere safe and get a house and a dog and a cat, only to be told they'll be dead in, like, three days. It drains the energy out of him and he focuses instead on the way Dave's hair feels as he tangles it gently around his fingers.

"I mean, what chance do we have if we already died the first time around?" Klaus mutters from his seat, sparing a glance at his siblings with tired eyes.

"Klaus, shockingly, has a point," Diego says from behind the bar. Luther shifts, puffing out a breath with a sigh. He opens his mouth to speak but a sudden flash and familiar clap of wind breaks him off. Instinctively, himself and Dave duck away from it, but it's only Five, crashing onto the bar with a thick, familiar briefcase breaking his fall. As if nothing happened, Five, covered in dust and dirt, slides ( ~~ _falls_~~ ) off the bar, stealing Allison's coffee and draining it in a few gulps, ignoring the shocked looks of everyone in the room.

"Uh... am I high, or something?" Klaus asks, rubbing his eyes and blinking. Five is still there, very much alive and not a hallucination. 

"Are you alright?" Allison asks, watching with concern as he sets the now-empty coffee cup on the side.

"The apocalypse," he says through gritted teeth, whipping around to stare at them with a burning intensity, "is in three days. So all of you need to get your heads out of your asses. Fuck whatever dad thought about us and our 'potential'. Are we going to let that define us? No, we're not. We have three days, and I have the name of the man we need to find," he says. His little speech is almost inspiring, Klaus thinks, and it makes them rise to their feet with renewed determination. Klaus thinks the moment he says about meeting Claire he's completely won over Allison, and Diego seems just as determined too. Then,

"Who's that?" 

Klaus had almost forgotten about that, and he waves a hand at Five.

"Dave," he simply says. "Don't worry about him."

Five eyes Dave for a moment, something in his eyes, before he shrugs. "Whatever," he says, and then turns to Diego who had been ready to leave. Diego's looking at Klaus, eyebrows raised.

"Are you coming?" He asks, and Klaus lets out a long breath.

"Ah, you go ahead. I've got some... stuff to sort. I'll follow after, or whatever," he says, and when he walks past Diego he pats his chest. He hears Dave hurrying after him.

"Uh... it was nice to meet you all," he offers with a sheepish smile, and Klaus smiles slightly at it. His footsteps thump gently as he catches up to Klaus' side, and Klaus reaches out to take his hand.

"Are we not going with the others?" He asks, and Klaus raises an eyebrow. "It sounded like they needed your help."

Klaus shrugs, turning his eyes forwards again. "Eh. I want a little more piece. We can catch up with them in, like, half an hour or something," he says, then holds up his hand in a scouts salute.

Dave gives him a look but doesn't say anything, and Klaus falls into heavy silence until they reach his room where he falls onto the bed, hearing the now-empty bowl of chicken nuggets fall off the bed, rolling across the floor. Thankfully, it doesn't break.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks, and Klaus presses his lips together, shrugging. Dave settles down next to him, turning to face him despite Klaus' avoidance.

"Babe, I know something's up," Dave says in that voice, and Klaus slumps.

"I just..." he lets out a sigh, dragging his hands down his face. He needs a shave. "I completely forgot about the apocalypse, and I brought you here being all  ' _oh, we can get a cottage, Dave, we can get a cat and a dog and another cat, Dave, we can grow old, Dave_ ' but now - now the world's fucking ending in three days!" He exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air. Maybe they should have just stayed in Vietnam and chanced their luck.

"Hey, hey," hushes Dave, rubbing Klaus' shoulder, "don't think like that. It's better to be here than stuck wading through rice fields and fighting for our lives every day." His thumb rubs circles on his shoulder, hand squeezing gently, and Klaus closes his eyes. His eyes burn and he hunches in on himself.

"We're still gonna die, Dave. I - I didn't bring you here just to die within three days!" He shouts, dropping his face in his hands and curling his fingers roughly in his hair and tugging. 

Dave's arms are strong as they close around him and pull him against him. "Don't speak like that, Klaus," he scolds, and his hands are gentle and warm on his face and Klaus turns into his touch. "Your siblings are all determined to stop it. If you still want that cottage we were going to get, those pets, then lets do something about it, yeah. We can try and help them stop this, and then we can go get that cottage."

Dave doesn't sound sure that they'll be able to stop it, but he knows Dave would die before he sat aside and watched the world burn. He sounds sure in the way that they can't just sit by, and that he believes that maybe, just maybe, they will actually be able to stop whatever's going to happen, and God, does Klaus want that future they always spoke about.

Klaus grips his arms, still tight and firm around him, and takes in a deep breath to steady himself.

"You're right," he croaks, "you're right. I'm sorry, we'll - _fuck_ \- I love you. I'll - _we'll_ \- do something."

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you did enjoy this, please feel free to leave a comment and a kudos! Thank you!


	4. How Long Must We Live Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Eventually, they go back downstairs. The bowl of chicken nuggets is empty and they take a detour to the kitchen to shove it in the dishwasher when Ben speaks up.

"Hey, Klaus?" He calls, and Klaus peers at him from over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, dearest brother?"

"I think Luther's drunk."

"... what?"

"Luther. He's drunk. I think so, anyway."

Dave raises an eyebrow questioningly at Klaus' slack expression. "Ben says Luther's... drunk," he explains, and then laughs a little. "Holy shit, I have to see this." 

He hurries out of the kitchen, Dave on his heels, and all but bursts into the living room. Sure enough, slouched on the bar is Luther, hand loosely holding a glass of liquor. Klaus shares a look with Ben, pats Dave on the shoulder, and approaches Luther like he's a wild animal.

"Hey there, big guy," he says, "are you alright there?" 

Luther glances up, blinking quickly. Klaus cant help the laugh that escapes his lips.

"Holy shit!" He chuckles. "You're drunk! And you busted into dad's liquor cabinet - he's gonna be so pissed with you!"

He wanders forwards, hands on his hips as he takes in the sight of his swaying brother. Luther keeps one hand on the bar to steady himself as he turns around to look at Klaus, and he clears his throat.

"Get him." 

Klaus' eyebrows draw together slightly, and Luther continues forwards with a distressed sigh.

"Dad. Do it, now," he demands, staring Klaus down. 

Klaus rocks on his heels, glancing briefly at Ben. "I told you already," he states, "I can't! Dad won't -"

Luther snaps, large hand reaching out to close around Klaus' neck while he spits a curse. Klaus feels himself being lifted off the ground, pushed back against one of the pillars in the room, and he hears Dave hurry forwards. He grips Luther's hand with one hand, the other waving Dave away. Klaus is used to Luther's strength, but Dave isn't, and he'd be damned if he let Luther lash out at Dave while drunk and pissy about their father, even if he has to hold back his instincts to lash out, go for the weak spots, save himself.

He thinks, however, that Dave might have to intervene, because Luther's fingers crush his throat and Klaus worries he won't let go until he finally does, and Klaus crumbles to the ground. He groans, rubbing his neck while Dave hurries to his side, helping him get to his feet.

"Maybe we should let him burn this out himself, Klaus," he murmurs, warily watching his brother.

Klaus wants to take that option, but he shakes his head. "If this is about dad, he's not gonna stop," he replies, clearing his throat. "I'm fine," he assures with a smile, and then steps forwards again despite Dave's reluctance.

"Of course I've tried, Luther. I've tried multiple times! But he is as he was in life, he's a stubborn prick! I can't get him!"

Luther's at the opposite end of the room, looking the most sorry for himself Klaus thinks he's ever seen someone look. "He needs to answer to me for what he did. For sending me up there. I sacrificed everything for him, my entire life. I never left this house. I never had friends. And for what? For nothing."

Klaus deflates, shoulders slumping as Luther falls onto the couch, eyes closed and looking so sad even Klaus feels bad. 

"No, no, no, no," he hushes, and he staggers up to his side. "Just relax, okay? Relax, Luther. I could try again? I don't think it'll work, but - hey, no, no, that's enough of that." He reaches out when Luther drinks more, urging him to put the glass down.

"It's okay," moans Luther, "just go."

Klaus perks up. "Why - why don't we find the others? I'm sure Allison could help." Klaus' relationship with Luther had always been pretty poor. As children they'd never gotten along, Luther always trying to satisfy their father and win his love, and Klaus going against Reginald at any given opportunity. Reginald expressed distaste for Klaus, so Luther did too, and he knew Luther had never really gotten past seeing Klaus as the family disappointment and reckless junkie. 

Luther shakes his head vigorously. "No. I don't want her. I don't want them to see me like this. Besides, I - I'd just hold them back. What they're doing is too important."

Klaus sighs, ducking his head to look at him. "What are you talking about? You're our _Number One_ , remember? _O Captain! My Captain!_ " He laughs and so does Luther, and Klaus slumps into the seat next to him, smiling softly. Dave looks at him with worried eyes and Klaus looks away, watching as Luther's laughs turn to sobs and he slumps against Klaus' shoulder.

Awkwardly, Klaus reaches out to pat his shoulder. "Luther..." He sighs.

"You know, Diego was right," his brother interrupts. "Dad sent me up to the moon... 'cause he couldn't stand the sight of this... of what... of what he did to me. Of what I've become."

Klaus shakes his head. "No, no, no. That's... that's not... It... Damnit, dad was such an asshole right to the end." He isn't sure what else to say other than that, because he was. None of them had really gotten off without deep rooted trauma and problems, thanks to Reginald's care, and Klaus knew that none of them ever really handled it well. He lets out a sigh. "You know, if... if there's anything else... that I can do, or..."

Luther interrupts him. "I wanna be le like you," he blurts, looking up at him with desperate eyes. "I wanna do whatever it is that you-"

It takes a minute for Klaus to realise what Luther means, and when it clicks, he sits up quickly, shaking his head. "No, no, no, no-"

"Yeah, I do, yeah."

"You don't. No. Absolutely not."

"Come on, Klaus," sighs Luther. "'cause you... you always seem so carefree, and I just need it. I... I wanna be Number Four."

"Trust me," he says. Images of dirty alleys, sweaty clubs, sudden bruises and desperation, willing to do anything to get high again, memories of paramedics becoming used to resuscitating him, all flash through his mind, and he reaches out for Luther's shoulder, shaking his head. "Trust me. You do not want that."

"I do..." Insists Luther, oblivious to the reality of Klaus' habits. 

"You don't want this. What you need is just... just lay down, sleep it off. You'll feel better in the morning, okay?" He thinks he's getting to him, but Luther's eyes narrow.

"Fine, I'll go by myself," he announces, heaving himself to his feet and making for the door. 

"Luther! No, no, come back!" Klaus calls. In the doorway he reaches out, grabbing onto Luther's shoulder. Luther turns, shoving his hands out. Klaus goes flying back from his shove, but Dave's fast and meets him half way, and they both tumble to the ground in a mess of limbs. Klaus hears the door open and then slam shut, and he drops his head back down against Dave's stomach and groans. "Shit."

He takes a moment to gather himself on the floor before sitting up, and then getting onto his feet and helping Dave up.

"Sorry," he says, "I didn't think Luther would do... that."

Dave snorts, scratching his head. "Nor did I. Shit, are you okay Klaus? You can't... you can't just let him do that to you."

Klaus lets out a sigh, letting Dave run his fingers over his tender neck as if expecting to heal the blossoming bruises with his touch. 

"It's a very Luther thing," states Klaus with a shrug. "He's a... physical person."

"Are you saying he's done this before?" Dave asks, eyebrows raised. Klaus shares a look with Ben.

"Our dear old daddy wasn't nice to any of us," he simply says.

Reginald had tried to drive a wedge between all of them in whatever way was possible, and it was easy to do so for Luther since he was always striving for his approval. Luther had been eager to try and enforce Reginald's rules for his approval, even if that meant using his strength to his advantage. Klaus and Diego, the disappointment and the rebel, had always gotten on Luther's bad side as well. Learning combat had never been fun if they got paired with Luther, either. 

Dave looks disturbed at that, staring at Klaus. "Want to talk about it?" He offers, gentle, and Klaus glances down to his feet.

"Not now," he replies, but he smiles softly at him.

He'd never actually gone into too much detail about his home life with Dave. He'd explained his family briefly, how they had been born under odd circumstances and had powers and seven of them had been adopted and they'd been given numbers. He'd said Reginald was a terrible father, and their mother was a robot. Otherwise, he'd never really gotten more personal with it. He'd never gotten too personal about himself or his situation, either. Dave knew he had been addicted to drugs, but Klaus also thought that he didn't understand the extent of which, either. Not that he'd wanted to go into big rants about sleeping with people just to get drugs, or overdosing multiple times. 

"I should probably go after Luther... I don't think he's ever been drunk before. He'll get himself into trouble."

Dave looks sceptical at that, raising his eyebrows. "At least get a drink first, for your throat."

Klaus groans dramatically, but they wander to the kitchen where Dave finds a glass and pours water into it, handing it over to Klaus.

"You have to go after Luther," says Ben, leaning back against the table. Klaus looks at him over the rim of his glass.

"I will," he sighs. "Give me a minute, Ben."

Dave runs his fingers up and down Klaus' arm softly, watching him with soft eyes. Klaus closes his eyes and leans into the touch, and then he sets the glass down.

"Fuck it, lets go," he says stretching his arms above his head with renewed vigour. He's ticked off, and a part of him wants to just take Dave up to his bedroom and let Luther  _be Number Four._ He'd forgotten what his family was like. He'd gotten used to the trust and respect from his soldiers, no longer seen as a useless junkie, that he'd completely forgotten his sibling's distrust for him and their opinions of him. He knows they don't know what he's gone through or the change in him and he can't blame them for that, but it hurts either way. As if he'd built a life up for himself independently only to return to the hellhole of the Umbrella Academy, return to numbers and low expectations and disappointment.

Still, he can't bring himself to ignore Ben and let Luther possibly put himself in danger.

He grabs his army jacket, pulls it on, and he heads out with Dave and Ben. 

While they search, Klaus does some vague explaining.

"Luther was always a suck up to our dad," he says, looking over at Dave. "Probably 'cause he was named Number One, so he wanted to be the best. I don't think dad numbered us in a particular way, but he sure as hell made us think that. Luther always thought he had to be the perfect leader of us all rather than a brother, and he'd do whatever dad said. Me and Luther, we never really got on, since daddy never liked me, and since daddy disapproved of me, so did Luther. I'd say some shit, Luther would be all  _'dad actually cares about us, you know, and you're just throwing all that away. Dad wants the best for us, why are you like this, Klaus? Why are you such a disappointment, Klaus? You're the lookout, Klaus, you can't do anything else.'_ 'cause that's what dad would say, you know." Dave gives him a sad look.

"You know that isn't true," he says softly. Klaus shrugs.

"It was," he simply replies, before continuing.

"And he didn't like it 'cause once everyone started to leave the academy, I actually didn't - I'm not entirely stupid, you know, 'cause I wouldn't have anywhere to go and back then all I really cared about were drugs, y'know, not renting apartments. So it was me and Luther for a while, and I was just kicking it and he was going off on missions, and he got really frustrated with me doing nothing. Dad made him feel like it was his fault, I think, that he was a bad leader. Who knows. He just wanted dad to love him, and when we all gave up on that, he didn't. He wanted dad to love him and he wanted to be his favourite, and, you know, I think he wanted _us_ to love him like a perfect big brother, but we all went about it in the wrong way. And then dad sent him up to the moon for, like, forty years. I think it would've been cool, but also really lonely. And he only found out now that it was for no reason, which is tough, I guess. Dad didn't open any of the research or letters Luther sent him. God, dad really fucked us all up. Luther just doesn't want to accept that. Well, until now, apparently."

Dave's quiet, frowning at the ground. 

"I think I'm glad he died before I met him," he states, and Klaus laughs quietly.

"Yeah... yeah, so am I."

"We'll find him. You said he's close with Allison? - maybe she can talk to him. Help him think about all that without doing all... _that_ ," he suggests, and Klaus shrugs.

"Maybe, maybe. Let's just... get this over with... thank you."

Luther's surprisingly fast, what with his drunken state he'd left in, and Klaus doesn't know where he'd go. The pub down the street? A club? A house party? A drug den? He has no idea, and although Ben occasionally runs ahead to check some places, he often comes up empty handed. Klaus suspects he's bounced between places, although no one recognises the description he gives when asking if he's been in there.

It's well over an hour of searching before they come upon the place. He's gotten a headache from all the flashing lights and pounding music, and there's ants settling under his skin, beats in music turning into rhythmic bursts of gunfire, ground shaking from distant explosions. He can tell Dave's uncomfortable now, too, and he's debating turning back when a woman walks out of the next place they're checking out, laughing about a hairy man.

It's something Klaus would have frequented and sends memories flooding him of blurry nights and falling asleep on stranger's beds. It makes his veins itch for something familiar.

"Let this be the place," Klaus utters, throwing a look to the sky and whatever's beyond, and they dive inside. 

Klaus shoves carelessly past people, one hand gripping Dave's wrist to keep him with him, and he makes his way through the crowds of furries and dancers until his eyes find a horrific sight.

"Do you think he knows?" Ben yells over the music, staring at Luther, covered in hair like a gorilla, dancing furiously.

"Holy shit," Klaus replies with instead, looking between both Ben and Dave. He shoves his way over, yelling Luther's name, and when Luther, evidently high, jumps down from the platform he had been on to pull Klaus into a dangerous hug, both himself, Dave, and Ben tense. He doesn't do anything more, though, not even when Klaus reluctantly chucks the little pill he holds out away. He stares after it longingly for several moments, but returns to his task of trying to coax Luther into leaving with him.

"Come on, Luther! We need to get you home!" He says, tugging his arm lightly.

"I'm never going home! I live here now!" Announces Luther, wildly looking around at everyone as if the strangers are his friends. Klaus knows the feeling.

"Luther," sighs Klaus, but then some women's drifting away from her angry-looking boyfriend to come dance with Luther, and Klaus steps back, leaning against Dave. He knows he's shaking, overwhelmed by the music and the lights and the drugs, and the music fades in and out with the sounds of choppers and rifles. The flashes of red and orange burn bright like napalm fires and nothing quietens when he clamps his hands over his ears, and as he collapses to the ground, shoving through people to press himself against a pillar for safety, he sees army boots storm passed him. 

Then Dave's there, not in his uniform and not looking for cover. He reaches out hesitantly to pry his hands off his ears and although he can't hear him, Klaus can see his lips moving and can catch a few words like _breathe_ , _it's okay_ , _I'm here_. 

Klaus slumps against Dave, focusing on him until the music returns and he's grounded once more. He tips his head back, letting out a shuddery breath. Dave's fingers card through his sweat-dampened hair, pushing it back from his face, and Klaus turns his face into the crook of Dave's neck. It would be easy to just go find someone with a little pill, or a few powdery lines, and just revert back to old habits. Dave kisses his cheek and says, "you're doing great, baby," and Klaus feels bad for thinking that.

"Maybe we should leave," Dave suggests next to his ear, and Klaus is all for that. He lets Dave pull him to his feet, clinging onto his waist. They're a few paces away, reaching for the door, when Ben speaks up once more.

"Klaus, look," he urges, watching something over his shoulder. Klaus doesn't want to, so close to the door already, but he eventually does so. He follows Ben's gaze to where Luther's still dancing with that woman, but he notices something else - the men she had been with closing in on Luther, the girl's boyfriend holding a bat. Klaus knows what Ben's telling him without him having to say a word. He stares longingly at the door a few paces from them before wiggling out of Dave's grip, muttering "one second."

He weighs his best options but with his limbs still shaking and his head pounding, he doubts he'd manage to successfully disarm or pin the guy, so he does the next best thing. He runs and jumps, throwing himself at the man and clinging onto him while yelling for Luther's attention. He hears shocked gasps, sees Dave, shocked, running up to him, and then the room spins as the man throws him off his back and then - nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this, feel free to leave a kudos or a comment - I appreciate it all!


End file.
